JXHQ: Why You Really Came
by thechokesonyou
Summary: ONESHOT. Harley Quinzel works at Arkham Asylum. After a night of having a bit too much to drink, she decides to take out her frustrations on her new patient: The Joker. The night takes a very unexpected turn and one that would change things forever. Sexually Explicit and violent content.


Harley had had one drink too many. The warmth in her belly was spreading through her veins and filling her with liquid courage that she knew she would probably regret in the morning. She was sitting in her office, her bare feet propped up on the oak desk, crossed at the knees, leaning back in her chair and nursing a glass of scotch. She'd found Jeremiah Arkham's hidden stash in his office not even three weeks ago and she'd already drained half the bottle.

Working at Arkham was stressful.

The ironic part of that, though, was that as stressful as her job was, Harley never wanted to leave. Her work had drowned her and she was now in the blissful serenity of the depths of psyches and diagnosis' and she was happily sucking in more lungfuls of the poison. With that thought in mind, she rolled her head up to look at the clock. It was already quarter after nine, and as cold as it was outside in the winter months in Gotham, the skies were black and there was a slight frosting on her office window. She took another long pull from her glass before setting it down noisily on the top paper on her desk. With idle curiosity she looked over at her notes. The picture on the case file stared up at her with mocking eyes and the urge to get another drink was suddenly strong. The Joker's face was perfect and sarcastic, even in a black and white photo and Harley felt her blood boiling. He was infuriatingly captivating, a conundrum she desperately wanted to crack yet was too scared to dive into.

The part that she hated, though, was that he knew exactly how she felt about him, and he had so much fun tormenting her. He was constantly inside her head, and sometimes she was convinced he was reading her mind, but she knew it was just his genius. He was an observer, a people watcher and he could pick up clues from the slightest things and instantly know exactly what you felt. He _knew _how obsessed she was with his case and he loved it, and in turn, it made her splenetic.

She gritted her teeth as she poured more of the scotch in her glass. It was a delicious twelve year Talisker Single Malt and she was more than happy to drink the whiskey away. The more of the alcohol that went into her, the more anger came out, the more passion in her emotions. She imagined his smile, his bright lips stretched into a grin, and the pale skin and those black eyes… He looked almost fictional, legendary. He didn't seem human and so the rules of humanity didn't apply to him, including mortality. The Joker defied death, and nothing he did seemed to be stopped. She knew he was an unstoppable force, and the thought of his power made her insides clench. She wanted to see him, to throw her scotch in his face and curse him for being so… Him.

It took her all but two seconds to stand up and she set her glass down before marching towards the office door and down towards Intensive Treatment. She knew exactly where his cell was, the exact amount of steps it took to get there and she counted each one with dread and excitement. It was easy to slip past the night shift guards. None of them cared much, knowing how much things calmed down at night in the asylum. Most of the staff was gone and most of the inmates were sleeping and as far as she could see, the only guard in here was asleep. She slipped through the cell block quietly, until she heard him. She had no doubts he'd be awake right now, because he almost never slept. He was an insomniac that didn't mind at all, and he hardly ever ate, though he was strong and fit and healthy. He'd be up for hours before he finally got some shut eye.

He was whistling, just like always. It was always the same tune, but she never knew what the song was, and he'd never bothered to tell her. He was always a master of changing the conversation topic when she didn't want him to, but she never noticed it until hours later. She slipped off her heels so she wouldn't be loud and carried them in her hands as she walked on the balls of her feet down the hallway. His cell light was on. "Hello, Harley girl," He said, cutting off his whistling before Harley had even approached. She jumped slightly at his intuition, but she wasn't terribly surprised. He knew everything. Harley wouldn't be surprised if he had eyes in the back of his head. "Did you _miss _me?" He cooed. She went ahead and walked up to the glass wall of the cell.

"No," She replied. She closed her eyes as her subconscious screamed at her. She had meant to be snarky and clever in her response, but no matter what, he was too overpowering for her to think clearly. Being near him mixed in with the alcohol in her system was enough to get her drunk.

"I think you did. I missed _you,_" He said, looking at her suggestively. He was slowly approaching the glass, walking like a cat ready to pounce. He was so lithe and tall, like a predator and even though there was the glass blocking them, she still stumbled back a bit. "Have you been _drinking, _Harls?" He clicked his tongue in disapproval and Harley flushed.

"That isn't any of your business," She replied, her courage all but gone. She was suddenly nervous and wished she'd never come here.

He pressed a palm to the glass and cocked his head slowly, never breaking eye contact. "Oh, but I think it is. You never would've come to see me if you were, uh, _sober_."

She frowned, her eyebrows pulling together. She had no idea how to reply to that. If she agreed, she'd be admitting how much she was drinking, which was something he'd love to play off of, but if she disagreed, she'd be telling him she'd want to visit him. "I came to yell at you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Who, _me?_" He asked, looking hurt. "What ever could I have done?"

"You're driving me mad!" She yelled, and immediately covered her mouth. His cell was secluded, the next best thing to solitary confinement, but Harley still worried someone would hear.

"You're doing that all by yourself," He hissed. "We all go mad. You just happened to fall as soon as I came around." But she saw the dishonesty in his eye.

He knew what he was doing to her, and he loved it. He loved every second of her psychological torture, loved how his case was tearing her apart even when he wasn't around. He looked so… smug.

The smug grin was what did it. She grabbed the key card from her pocket and slid it through the card slot, before pressing in his six digit code. The glass wall slid open and then closed as she stepped inside. He looked impressed by her audacity. As the door went to close she pressed one more button - the emergency shut off. A metal barrier lowered in front of the glass, blocking them off from the outside world. If anyone else saw it, they'd assume he'd just acted out. As soon as the door was down, she let it out. With a wordless scream, Harley threw her fists into his broad chest over and over again. He was solid and much taller than her and he looked down at the assault with a rapidly decreasing look of amusement. "I hate you, I hate you!" She shouted, pushing him, but he wouldn't budge. The fact that her punches did nothing at all to him, not even sway him made her even more upset. The Joker could feel her will fading and turning into sobs and in one large hand he scooped up her thin wrists, holding them in an iron tight grip. He bent down and looked straight in her eyes, those almost black irises burning into her own. Amidst the tears falling down her cheeks and gasping for angry breaths, she held still, frozen by his stare.

"No," He replied, and Harley was frightened by his voice. It wasn't loud, it wasn't intimidating, but the quiet lack of emotion is what made him so frightening. He didn't have to shout or growl to be intimidating. His power humbled her and she shook, realizing just how idiotic she had been by locking them in here together. He could kill her, she knew.. He probably _would _kill her. And it was all her fault. "You don't hate me."

"Don't tell me what I feel," Harley spat with a jerk of her arms. His mood shifted easily and as sudden as it was, it was very natural. She was shoved angrily up against the metal door and the cold made her skin turn to gooseflesh. The Joker's arm shoved against her windpipe, holding her against the wall while her feet barely touched the floor. Her tiptoes scrambled for friction on the tile floor. His lean body was pressed up against her's tightly, and she could feel the heat of his body straight through their clothes. He was like a furnace. The lack of air circulation hit her hard and she tried to gasp, choking as his arm pinned her back. She clawed at his skin, leaving angry red welts behind, and his eyes flickered as his lips curled upwards. She dropped her hands as she realized he liked that. Resorting to pushing, she tried to shove him off, but he was too large.

"Harley, Harley, _Harley,_" He purred in her ear. "I'm not sure how I feel about this attitude you've gotten with me… Maybe you need to be," He paused, thrusting his body closer to hers and grasping her chin in a large hand. "_Put in your fucking place._" Fear lanced through Harley's chest. This was it. He was going to kill her. He threw her then, fast and hard and she gasped for air before she could comprehend what was happening. Her head slammed against the wall hard and she groaned as she rolled over onto the bed. The sheets were scratchy under her and the springs creaked loudly under the new weight. "Little girl, trying to play a big boy's game," He growled, stalking around the bed like a lion. Her head swam, her vision blurry and she could feel a warm dripping against her ear. She cowered into the corner, trying to block herself from him, but he was watching with a smile. Nothing she did would stop the Joker from doing what he wanted. "I know the _real _reason you came down here tonight."

"I told you the reason!" She shouted, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks.

"Shut up! Don't lie to me!" His voice was suddenly a demonic roar. "You don't _hate _me, little Harley! You _love me. _Admit it! That's why you're angry, because you know everything I'm saying is true and you _want me,_" He growled in a pleading, low voice. Harley's cheeks burned as he spoke. It wasn't true, it wasn't! She sobbed again, and he lunged, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her flat on the mattress. "Say it," He breathed in her ear, tilting her head roughly to the side. He was being harsh with his movements, but not particularly hurting her. She closed her eyes, eyes blurry with collected tears. "_Look at me!_" As soon as she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he growled, wordless. "_Say it, Harley._" His voice caressed her name, like he was hugging it with his tongue. He said it with care, more so than the rest of his words and her cheeks flushed again. The heat of the alcohol was spreading through her and the heat from his body made it worse. His groin was pressed hard against hers and she tried to convince herself that the heat she felt there was just his average body temperature and not arousal.

"I -" She choked, a hiccup escaping her throat. "I want…" He slapped her then, but it was only slightly. Only enough to sting.

"Like you mean it," He said. Then as an after thought, he said, "Because we both know you do."

Harley changed her approach. Maybe telling him everything he wanted to hear was the right direction. Maybe he would have mercy on her. "I want you!"

She shouted. "I want you, J, I do. You're the man for me," She kept on. "I love you. Please don't hurt me. I want you," She whimpered, her chest heaving in gasps. The words struggled to get out of her throat. She looked up at him, waiting for a reaction but he just watched curiously.

"That's a good girl," He told her, stroking her tear-stained cheek. "But you still need to be taught a lesson," He hissed into her ear. His breath blew her hair across her face. One hand clutched her wrists as the other grabbed her hip. Since he'd finally released her chin, she tried to jerk away from him, but the growl from his throat stopped her in my tracks. He squeezed her hip and then started heading upwards, towards her ribs. He fleeting ran a hand over her rib cage and up towards her breasts. Harley flinched as he grasped a nipple roughly through the thin shirt and tweaked it with his thumb and forefinger. She squeaked in pain and as a response, he giggled. "What to do, what to do?" He sung as he groped her gently. His slow movements were frightening in their intimacy.

Harley tried to struggle under his weight but he had her pinned completely and effortlessly on the cot. "Why are you doing this?" She pled, her eyes shut tight as she turned her head from him, refusing to be witness to her ultimate demise.

He paused momentarily, a thoughtful look settling over his face. She watched from underneath her lashes as he cocked his head to the side, looking focused but confused at the same time. "Why _else _does a man trap a lady on his bed in the middle of the night, _Harley?" _His hips thrusted against hers and she gasped as she realized that in the past few moments he had rapidly grown hard. Harley couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to kill her, or at least not now. But what he wanted to do… She shook as he grabbed her chin again, forcing her to look at him. "I'm giving you what you _want, _little girl, what you've been _dreaming _about since the _first time _you laid those _pretty little baby blues _on me."

She was too lost for words. She had started off denying him but the more he spoke the more she believed it to be true. Had she been fantasizing about him? Admittedly, she'd spent many nights imagining him and his body, his words. He had haunted her thoughts for weeks. And what was that feeling she was getting? A rush of shame filled her cheeks as she realized that her compromising position had aroused her. Her nipples were hard against her bra and she didn't dare to move her legs, to take a chance of revealing just how much he affected her. He must have noticed her thighs unconsciously squeezing together because he jammed a large pale hand between her legs and glared at her with a predatory smile, his teeth bared.

"Oh, baby," He purred. "Don't hide yourself from Daddy." He pushed her legs apart and shoved her skirt up to her hips, landing himself squarely against her. His hardness pressed against her panty-covered mound and she held back a squeak at the contact. She tried to tell herself it wasn't him that was was attracted to, it was just her body reacting. His long scholar's fingers traced the folds of her underwear slowly, his eyes burning harsh into hers as he felt the damp fabric. "_Go ahead. Resist. _Then you can tell them I did it by force." On the last word he shoved himself hard against her. He was breathing fast now, excited by this little game he was playing. Harley bit back another cry at the pressure he was putting on her clit. Irritated by her lack of response to his assault, he yanked at her button up shirt and the plastic buttons clattered on the floor. She sobbed silently, trying to subdue them to no avail. He yanked the cups of her bra down so her breasts were pushed up and into the air, her hard peaks pointing straight towards him. He flicked one hard with his fingernail and she whimpered. "You told me you want me," He whispered in a husky tone. "Now prove it. Give yourself to me, Harley _girl._" She shook her head prideful. He snapped his teeth together. "Fine! I'm not a man who will back down from such a…" He pondered the right word and then as he said, "_Challenge,_" His fingers grabbed hold of her panties and yanked, tearing at her skin and making her cry out as they disintegrated in his hands. "You smell _good, _Harls, I wonder if you taste the same."

Two fingers forcefully pressed against her opening and slid deep inside and she gasped as he shoved himself into her. She was ashamed to realize just how soaking wet she was and her inner walls hugged his fingers tight. He grinned maniacally and she hated the smugness in his eyes of knowing how he could easily manipulate her body. He rubbed her walls slowly and then extracted his fingers before putting them in his house and sucking them clean with loud smacking sounds. "_Delicious. _Have some!" He said cheerfully before shoving his still sticky fingers into her gasping mouth. She tried to pull away but he held still and she finally relented, letting her tongue slide across his slick digits indignantly. The taste was slightly salty, musky but it wasn't bad. He finally pulled his fingers out of her and grabbed his crotch, stroking himself through the orange fabric of his uniform. "Tell me, _little girl, _why you're trying so hard to resist me…"

"I don't want this," She pled gently, but knowing he wouldn't listen. There was no hope now. She was his to do with as he pleased and no matter how hard she struggled, it would make no difference.

"Sh, sh, sh, I can make you feel, ah, _real good." _He licked his fingers and then reached down, grasping her most private place roughly and without a care. His large (and surprisingly skilled) fingers manipulated her clitoris and she, unable to hold back anymore, let out a loud moan. She hated that he made her feel so good, but she couldn't deny he knew what he was doing.

"Mr. J," She moaned, still begging, but for what, she didn't know. Her pussy walls contracted tightly as more fluid rushed out of her and onto the bed sheets. He growled in pleasure, but it slowly turned into a dark laugh that chilled Harley to the bone but also made her clit throb against his hand. She never knew what a dark side she had. She'd been sexually active since she was a teenager and especially in college, but not once did she ever realize an entire realm of desire she didn't know existed. Being forced down, taunted, abused… She'd never wanted someone more. Of course, she couldn't stand to admit this to herself, and the very thought was banished from her mind, but that couldn't stop her body from reacting to his angry touch. She wriggled underneath him, no longer trying to escape, but trying to get more friction against her.

"Beg me for it," He growled violently, his fingers demanding against her most sensitive skins. He was rubbing hard circles against her swollen clit and she couldn't stop the whine that escaped her parted lips. "_Beg!_"

"Please J, please... " She whimpered, trying to give him what he wanted, without directly saying the words.

He wasn't buying it. "Please _what?_" Two fingers plunged back into her sex, thrusting against her inner walls like pistons. Harley had never felt such pain and such pleasure at the same time. It was the most intense thing she'd ever experienced.

"Give it to me! Please, J!"

"Tell me what _you want, _Harley Quinn, tell me what you're asking for," He growled deeply as he rubbed his hard member against her inner thigh. She felt the slight wetness on his clothes and shuddered when she realized it was precum.

She looked up at him weakly, blue eyes staring into black. Everything froze around them as she stared into his gaze. "You." Her voice was a whisper. His eyes rolled back in his head and he shuddered at her words. Suddenly he yanked the sleeves of his jumpsuit off his arms and shoved it down his body, revealing his naked chest to her. He was toned and lean and very pale, but he was beautiful. His skin was littered with scars, some jagged and angry, some clean and precise. He was a mosaic of lines and bulletholes and Harley thought he was the most beautiful person she'd ever seen. In her trance, she hadn't realized the Joker was pulling his rod out of his jumpsuit. It was large and thick, but not terribly long and the tip was a dark purple-ish red, angry and waiting for her. His balls were heavy with unspent seed and the mushroom head looked almost painfully sensitive. Her fingers reached out slowly, hesitating halfway there, but he watched her with an animalistic glint in his eye. He never tried to stop her movements, just waited patiently to see what she would do.

He was more than pleased that she was finally playing along.

He grunted softly as her fingers caressed the shaft and slid up and down lightly. Her nails trailed down the underside and towards his balls, tickling them lightly with the tips and then moving back upwards. He made that noise again, the huff of approval, the dangerously sexy beastial moan/exhale that made her shake. When her fingers touched his head is when he really growled. The sound rumbled up from his chest. Impatience radiated off of him in waves. "_Harley,_" He whisper-growled. She ignored his warning as she sat up, her thumb rubbing all around his throbbing head. Warm precum spread under her fingertip. She slid her fist down the shaft once more and up again, twisting her wrist at the end of the stroke. "_Harley, baby,_" He groaned viciously. "You'd better stop teasing daddy, little girl." Warmth flooded out of her as he referred to himself as daddy. It was so naughty, so sexy. She loved it.

She looked up at him from under long lashes and leaned in, her tongue gently swirling around the head and dipping into the little hole. His hand slid behind her head and touched her hair gently before yanking at the hair tie that kept it in place. It tumbled down from it's bun and she moaned in pain as he wrenched the tie out. He messed her hair with his fingers before wrapping the blonde locks again and again around his fist and yanking, showing her who was still in control. The next time she leaned in for a lick, he waited patiently until her lips were next to his cock and then he yanked on her hair, shoving her head forward and making her pouting lips envelop his large member in her warm mouth. She groaned as he hit the back of her throat and she gagged around him, making him groan.

"I _told you _not to tease me, _didn't I?_" He asked, as he slowly started pumping her mouth back and forth on his rod. She opened her eyes for a moment to look up at him and saw the evil smile on his lips. He was kneeling above her, forcing her face to take him. She couldn't believe this was happening. Here she was, a resident psychiatrist for Arkham, sitting in the Joker's cell, half naked as he fucked her face. A moan escaped her lips at the dirtiness of the act. It was so wrong. This man had tortured Gotham, killed dozens of citizens, not a month ago! Her hips jerked against the bed. "Enough foreplay," He growled, and shoved her off of him. She collapsed back on the sheets, gasping for air as spit hung from her open lips and ran down her chin. She heard him stand, but didn't have the energy to turn to watch him.

Suddenly, she was being wrenched upwards and over, till her face was mashed up against his pillow and his hands were holding her ass up. Her knees searched for leverage to keep her up. One of his large palms slid down her back and grasped her neck, holding her face down harder. The bulbous head of his cock slid across the planes of her ass, sliding up and down until he reached her soaking slit. He slid the head down a little further to rub against her clit and she moaned. "J, please," She groaned.

"Say you want my cock," He demanded in a snarl.

She was so far past decency that she didn't hesitate. It was official. She was going to get fucked by the Joker. "I want your cock, J!" She begged, desperate for an orgasm. She was so ready.

Angrily he shoved himself inside her, stretching her snatch open. He shuddered violently against her back as he started pumping in and out. "Oh, _Harley, Harley, Harley Quinn._" He giggled as he spoke, his cock still working between her legs. "So _wet, _and so, uh, _tight…_" A finger slid up and down the crack between her cheeks and rubbed her puckered asshole gently. Her muscles squeezed tight, preventing the entrance and he groaned. "Not for long, girl." He kicked into overdrive then, banging into her hole harder than before. Harley gasped and whimpered as he abused her cunt, but they both knew she wouldn't try to stop him. She'd craved this violent touch since she first laid eyes on him, even if she hadn't fully known it. His fingers slid across her back and around her ribs to squeeze at her breasts before sliding down to her clit again. "This is _mine,_" He growled demonically in her ear. "_Isn't it?_"

"Yes, Mr. J! It's yours, it's all yours," She cried out desperately. She was rapidly approaching her climax and even talking was becoming difficult.

"What is?" He shouted as his cock slammed deeper into her. His other hand worked the tip of his finger against her tense asshole, slowly finding it's way in.

"My pussy! My ass! Everything! I'm yours!" She was screaming now, so close to exploding in desire for him. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything. He growled in response and continued slamming home. "Oh god, Mr. J," She whimpered.

Sweat was dripping down his curly locks and his hands were busy working at her clit and ass, while his hips pummeled her swollen sex. "Are you going to cum, little _Harlequin?_" On the last word, Harley detonated. Her pussy walls squeezed at the Joker's cock while her vision went white. She'd never had a better orgasm, and she knew she never would again. No one could ever manipulate her body like he could, or her mind. The insane pleasure she felt was intensified as he continued rubbing her and fucking her. She was so sensitive that it hurt, but the pain only turned her on more. She was exhausted after the orgasm and collapsed mindlessly on the bed.

It was only moments later that J grunted as he buried himself deep inside her. Hot seed shot out into her cunt, filling her up with his cum. She moaned at the feeling and he collapsed against her back, breathing just as hard as her. Fingers slid up to her face and wiped a strand of hair out of her face. Harley looked up at him, shame, desire and satisfaction all swirling in her expression. "And that, little Harlequin," He said, sliding his cock out of her sore hole, "Is why you _really _came to see me."


End file.
